


Star-Crossed Man

by blue_kuronuma_21



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst without a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, I pulled this out of my ass, Kenma and Akaashi are friends, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Spoilers, Time Skips, Unrequited Love, i have not read this, kind of ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_kuronuma_21/pseuds/blue_kuronuma_21
Summary: It was him, afterall, that brought him there. To Fukurodani. It was his boundless leap into what seemed like an endless sky. It was the way his hand shot down balls like they were stars, almost as if he was clearing a path for himself--the star.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Star-Crossed Man

**Author's Note:**

> So like lowkey this has references to the newest manga chapters but like I've only skimmed them cuz I'm stupid but I wanted to write this bc I saw the Akaashi and Bokuto chapter where Akaashi meets Bokuto you know the one. I highkey pulled this out of my ass and I am completely stunned I still knew the login info to this account

It was him, afterall, that brought him there. To Fukurodani. It was his boundless leap into what seemed like an endless sky. It was the way his hand shot down balls like they were stars, almost as if he was clearing a path for himself--the star. 

It was during his final year of junior high that he met this player of black and white. Met, he supposed, was an overstatement. It was him watching this man that was larger than life bounding across the court, leaping feet after feet into the air. It was at this moment, he would soon find, that his life had already begun to decay.

From his initial meeting of the star-crossed man, Akaashi Keiji made the fateful decision to attend Fukurodani. Prior to their meeting, he found dropping volleyball not to be a terrible decision. He would have plenty more time to focus on school. It was imperative, he surmised, that he attend a prestigious university after his graduation. 

That all changed, however, when he submitted his high school registration forms beside his parents. All previous desires to attend high-end colleges seemed to dissipate further as he stood outside Fukurodani’s gymnasium in the pouring rain, body itching with anticipation. 

He entered the gym with a flustered apology, drying off his umbrella and tapping his shoes against the welcome mat. He almost felt ridiculous as he bowed sheepishly to the upperclassmen and saw no trace of the man he shaped his future around. 

“Are you a first year?” an upperclassman with unruly brown hair inquired. 

“Y-Yes,” Akaashi answered, voice cracking under the weight of his anxiety. 

Clenching his fists, he began to consider leaving the gymnasium, claiming with a flurry of apologies that he had mistaken the gym for another building. He had attended Fukurodani for one reason. It would be so easy to dismiss his entrance as first day nerves and return to his pristine future--

The door slammed open behind him, thunder rumbling in the distance as the new arrival crazily shook his black and white hair. Akaashi’s anxiously beating heart silenced in his chest as his eyes immediately followed the sound’s source, locking with piercing hazel eyes in the process. Despite his hair clinging to his forehead and his clothes now being a school uniform instead of a volleyball uniform, Akaashi recognized the man immediately. 

“Bokuto,” another upperclassman chided, “you’re late.” 

'Bokuto,' Akaashi thought with wonder. 

\---

His full name, Akaashi eventually discovered, was Bokuto Kotarou. Along with his name, Akaashi also came to know much more about the star-crossed man. He learned that he loved yakiniku. He had always hated math; he can barely do long division. His birthday is September 20th. The closer they became, the more he learned. 

He learned the smaller details as well. He learned of his weaknesses and strengths. He learned of his silly ritual he did before every game. During sleepovers, he learned of what temperate he liked his shower as Bokuto pleaded with him to at least get his shower started as he prepared the snacks for the night. During practices, he learned of his pet peeves and how he disliked when one knee pad was higher than the other. 

On nights when all homework was completed and practice had finished hours prior, Akaashi found himself staring at his stark white ceiling. He found himself glossing over these small details, smiling to himself as he wondered how someone so exuberant could be one of the top five aces in the country. Enigmatic, Akaashi decided, was a fitting word to describe his captain. 

He had decided to skim through his social media once more before sleeping for the night. Exhausted and half asleep, he decided to check his Snapchat, skipping through stories and barely glancing at those of people he was closer with. It was at Bokuto’s, however, that Akaashi slowed his pace. 

Unhurriedly clicking on Bokuto’s story, he was met with an after-practice selfie of Bokuto in the middle as the other third years posed with him, smiling at the camera. Bokuto’s eyes were closed, becoming less prominent in comparison to his radiant smile which occupied a majority of his face. Sweat dripped down all their pink dusted faces as they attempted to make themselves presentable for the captain’s story. If Akaashi hadn’t been staring for so long, he wouldn’t have noticed the other team members. 

He found his heart beating rapidly in his chest and his face growing hot as he continued looking at the picture. His smile, closed eyes, damp multi-colored hair, and sweat soaked shirt. Akaashi took it all in with a shaky breath before shaking his head and shutting his phone off. 

There was no reason for him to be acting that way. There was no reason for that picture to make his heart beat like that. There was no reason for him to only be staring at Bokuto. His captain. Teammate. Upperclassmen. His best friend. His idol. There was absolutely no reason. 

He pulled his blanket up to his chin, burying his rouge dipped face in its plush fabric. Akaashi wasn’t stupid. There was a reason. He knew what that meant.

He liked Bokuto Kotarou.

\---

“You’re not gonna tell him?” Kenma asked as they sat for lunch at the summer training camp. 

Akaashi shook his head. “I don’t think he’d accept me. There would be no reason to.” 

Kenma looked at him pensively, studying him. His reason for his cowardice was justified. If he didn’t confess, there would be no heartbreak. If he didn’t confess, there would be no awkwardness. If Bokuto rejected him, it would become awkward, and Bokuto would simply deflate and pity Akaashi. There were many things Akaashi wanted from Bokuto, but pity was not one of them. 

Kenma hummed quietly as he took another bite of his watermelon. “If you feel that way, I suppose so,” he commented. “But he is graduating this year.” 

Akaashi looked solemnly at the grass beneath his feet, fidgeting with his fruit stained fingers. 

“Yea,” he said. “I know.”

\---

Graduation came and went. Though he would never admit it, Akaashi was among those on the team sobbing as the third years said their goodbyes. Akaashi wasn’t foreign to goodbyes. He had to say goodbye to third years in the past. But something about the look in Bokuto’s eyes after Akaashi hugged him one last time always caused ripples to surge through his heart. 

Three years following, Akaashi sat on his living room floor, shot glass in hand as he sobbed his heart out for what felt like the millionth time. Contrary to popular belief, Akaashi Keiji was not a man built of stone. Many, including himself, loved to believe he was untouchable. He constantly remained placid. No one could get in. No one could get out. Except one person. And that person, it seemed, had toppled his entire fortress. 

He rubbed his tear soaked eyes beneath his glasses as he choked out another whine lodged in the back of his throat. Snot dripped from his nose, causing him to reach for his hundredth tissue of the night. 

“You were right,” Akaashi croaked between broken cries. “I should have done it. I should have told him. I loved him. I should have told him.” 

“It’s okay,” was all Kenma said as he rubbed soothing circles into his back. 

The next day, Akaashi apologized profusely to Kenma. That had been the first time Kenma had seen Akaashi like that. Sure, he had seen Akaashi vulnerable before. He had seen him in love. He had seen him cry too. But never had Kenma ever seen Akaashi so broken as that night. 

Akaashi was not a heavy drinker. He typically hated alcohol, but he had a few bottles just in case. He had friends who enjoyed drinking, so he deemed it only common courtesy to provide for them. It was only after long, tiring days at his editing job, however, that he found himself on the floor, drunk as a kite as he sobbed over a love he lost years ago. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Kenma reassured. “Some people can’t handle their alcohol.” 

Akaashi smiled at that. “I typically don’t drink.” 

Later in the night, Kenma had suggested deleting Bokuto from all contacts. He argued that, despite their friendship, they hadn’t talked in years. They barely saw each other. The only thing his contact did for Akaashi was cause pain and massive migraines in the morning. 

The next morning, Bokuto Koutarou’s contacts were gone. 

\---

It would be another three years before Akaashi would be considering volleyball once more. According to his friend and coworker, Tenma Udai, there would be a professional volleyball match in the area. 

“We both played volleyball,” he suggested. “We should go check it out. As a break.” 

Akaashi chuckled despite the constricting of his chest. “I’d rather finish editing the newest chapter.” 

Udai encouraged the trip, claiming it to be better for both their health. Akaashi sighed as he and his coworker climbed up the steps to their seats. 

'Better for his deadline,' Akaashi thought begrudgingly as he took a bite from one of his various snacks. 

The scent was familiar. The scent of fresh rubber and stale sweat lingered in the air as the sounds of gym shoes skittering across the court joined the familiar scenery. Akaashi took a deep breath and willed away black and white memories of a star-crossed man. To Akaashi’s knowledge, Bokuto could be half-way across the world. He had no way to gain that knowledge, and he had no motivation to gain it. Bokuto had left him after his graduation. There were no phone calls. No messages. Not even an email. Akaashi Keiji did not care. 

“Excuse me?” a light voice interrupted his thoughts. “Has the second set started?” 

Akaashi gazed up at a woman around his age. She had silky brown hair that perfectly shaped her pale face. Chocolate brown eyes gazed at him questioningly. He glanced at her person briefly, noticing a few comically large signs in her ironically dainty hands.

“Ah,” Akaashi began. “Yes, actually. I believe it began ten minutes ago.” 

The woman groaned half heartedly before taking a seat beside Akaashi. “Oh, man,” she began. “I’m terrible! My fiancee is actually playing right now, and I’m here to support him.” 

Akaashi offered a small laugh. “Oh, really?” he said. “Is that what all the signs are for?” 

She grinned, almost blinding Akaashi in the process. “Yea!” she answered. “I think he’s actually about to serve.” 

“Hey, Akaashi,” Udai said. “We should cheer with her, no? It’s been a while since I’ve exercised my lungs like that.” 

Before Akaashi could retort or at least politely decline, the woman rose from her seat in a flash, beaming radiantly. “Really?” she yelped. “I would really appreciate that!” She ran to the balcony with Udai tailing behind her. “I have a few more signs if you guys would like!” 

Akaashi sighed as he followed her lead and haphazardly took one of the overly large signs from her hands. It was smooth on the surface but rough on the edges, and he was immediately reminded of Fukurodani's volleyball team and its cheering audience, adorning signs and believing a louder scream could power them through the game. It had been a while since Akaashi found himself in one of those audiences. He grit his teeth as he realized his last time spectating a game would most likely have been when he first saw that man.

“Who are we cheering for anyway?” Udai asked as he held the sign up in front of his chest, just above the balcony's railing.

Akaashi’s hearing turned to a shrill ringing as he flipped the board over, reading the kanji decorating the board. It was a coincidence. It was most certainly a coincidence. How many people were there in Japan with the first name Kotarou? Bokuto had been no exception. Kotarou, Akaashi reassured himself, was a popular name. Maybe a bit too popular in the volleyball world. 

“Oh, he’s serving! He’s serving!” the woman whose name or fiancee’s name he never asked. “Everyone cheer! Everyone cheer!” 

Akaashi’s face paled as he gazed upon the server. There was no way. It was impossible. There was no mistaking the black and white hair. There was no mistake in the way he walked or the way he adjusted one of his knee pads that was always slightly too high. Suddenly, the gymnasium felt much too small. He couldn’t breathe.

“Bokuto!” the woman cheered. “Bokuto Kotarou! Hit the ball!” 

The star-crossed man turned to face the woman, searching the audience with a piercing gaze that had hardened over so many years apart. His face had changed. His face had settled. All traces of baby fat were gone. His muscles, too, had grown. Bokuto had grown.

Akaashi couldn’t move. He didn’t want to see him. He couldn’t. But before he had any time to act, star littered eyes met his and the world seemed to stop on its axis. Before he knew it, he was a first year again, anxious as he met Bokuto Kotarou for the first time. Before he knew it, he was a first year once more, tossing Bokuto sets after a failed match. Before he knew it, he was a second year, sleeping in the bed adjacent to Bokuto in their room for Nationals. Before he knew it, he was a second year, sobbing as he said goodbye to his captain, teammate, best friend, and first love. The grin from Bokuto’s face had dropped into an open mouthed gasp as he saw his underclassman for the first time in over half a decade. 

Akaashi’s heart had dropped with a thud, echoed by the sound of a volleyball hitting the floor of a nearly silent gymnasium.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk it's 1 am and I really like the unrequited love prompt tbh


End file.
